Daniel Scarpinato Columnist

Alumni Plaza disrupts grassy center of campus for benefit of few

In Spring 2001, Lynne Tronsdal, assistant vice president for student retention (at the time she was dean of the university college), gave a convincing argument while guiding me on a tour of the not-yet-completed Integrated Learning Center, about why students shouldn't be upset about the grassy Mall making way for construction projects.

She argued that the sacrifices students at the time were making - canceled Frisbee games and lighter suntans - were in the name of additional facilities for future first- and second-year students whom most of them would never meet.

It's hard for those who weren't around at the time to understand the intense frustration and bitterness that resonated among the student body with the onset of the ILC and Student Union Memorial Center construction projects four years ago.

After all, the projects symbolized the robbery of the very jewel that brought many students from less desirable climates to Tucson: the UA Mall. Add that to the horrible inconvenience of the walk between the Main Library and Modern Languages building taking 10 minutes, not one.

But the major gripe was that students would never see the fruits of the disaster zone in the center of campus. The ILC was billed as a center for first-year students and no one else, most likely to sell it as a solution to low retention rates and, in effect, a political attempt to get support for the building.

Of course, this turned out to be false. Today, students from freshman through senior year use the ILC's Information Commons every day, and it's safe to wager that many of the very students who suffered from not having adequate green space to play on have had a class or two in the ILC.

In the end, agony turned to ecstasy - at least as much as possible for a bunch of computer terminals.

So, that brings us to today. The Mall, at least part of it, is walled off from the world once again, this time to make way for the Alumni Plaza - that's code for fancy new stairs and sidewalks in front of the Administration building. And the plaza, which gained a lot of attention when planners tried to cascade it over the historic cactus garden, will be pretty spiffy once it's done, but in the meantime there are sacrifices to be made.

For the generation of students still around who are now experts at surviving without the Mall, the reaction could be mixed: either a sense of betrayal after a promise that the Mall was back for good or passive apathy to a situation upperclassman know they can't change.

In any event, students probably won't react harshly. This project isn't nearly as visible - or for that matter as messy - as previous undertakings. And those who aren't as experienced with and jaded by the casualties of construction might not give the situation a second thought.

But one wonders if Tronsdal's argument about the sacrifices of today providing benefits in the future holds up in this case.

The Alumni Plaza will offer little more than an aesthetic spot in front of the home of UA's top brass.

Sure there are benches and fountains and bronze statues, but even though the motivation of the Alumni Association is generous, it's hard to convince the students who return to campus this week with a major inconvenience in the most congested area of campus of the merits of the project.

And while there are strong arguments for building the $4.85 million complex in front of the Administration building (it's near the union and in the geographic center of campus), could there be an unintentional bias in placing the plaza at the base of what houses UA's top brass?

Unlike the grand ILC and union projects which tied up the Mall for years, the chief nuisances caused by the Alumni Plaza will only last for a couple of months.

Nevertheless, as history has proven, one project often leads to another. So, when campus dignitaries cut the ribbon on the plaza some time from now, they'll no doubt be running across campus to turn the soil on another well-deserved but still largely bothersome change of scenery.

Let's just hope planners steer clear of the grass once and for all.

Daniel Scarpinato is a journalism and political science senior. He can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.